She wrestled two ibuprofens out of the container and handed them to me. “This should help with the pain; it might take a while though.”
I took the pil s with a grateful smile and drank a heap of water to wash them down, hoping they wouldn’t come back up again. It was strange that I was so nauseous earlier and wasn’t now. Strange that the meat smel fol owed me into the club. I shuddered at the thought of the woman I saw.
“Are you cold?” my mother asked, tucking the blanket around me tightly.
I wasn’t; in fact, I’d been especial y warm lately, but I smiled and nodded anyway. It sounds sad but my mother rarely doted on me, so sick or not, I was going to get as much attention from her as I could.
“You haven’t been well for some time,” she said gently, and patted my arm. “I know you’re going through a rough time, but things wil get better. You’l get a better job and you’l find love with someone good. You’l find your way, pumpkin.”
My mother was being uncommonly nice. I frowned at her, trying to figure out what her deal was, but she paid no attention. She straightened up and clapped her hands together. “I’l put on some chicken noodle soup for you.”
“Lipton,” I croaked after her as she left the room. “Or else I’l have to pick out those gross chicken chunks.”
After she left, I gritted my teeth until my jaw began to hurt and eventually drifted off to sleep. I was soon awakened by a presence nearby. Ada must have been back in the room with me.
“Did you find the hot water bottle?” I mumbled into my pil ow, not wanting to move or open my eyes.
I heard the door shut and felt Ada’s presence move toward me. She stopped at the foot of the bed.
Stopped.
And waited.
I could hear her breathing; it was low and ragged, like her lungs were fil ed with loose stones.
“Ada?” I asked again. “What are you doing?”
When she didn’t respond, I opened my eyes and raised my head in her direction.
There was no one there.
The door was closed but Ada wasn’t in my room. I was alone.
The back of my neck was enveloped in icy prickles. I had just heard someone, heard them breathing as clear as day.
“Hel o?” I asked timidly, my voice sounding extra small .
There was this indescribable feeling around me, my bedroom blanketed by a heavy, eerie vibe. Everything looked normal, except the air near the lamp in the corner seemed to bend and warp, like a sheet of moving plastic.
I rubbed my eyes and sat up slowly. I tried to focus on the anomaly until my eyes adjusted and everything looked fine again.
“Ada,” I said loudly, hoping she’d hear me wherever she was in the house. “Did you close my door?”
I waited for a response, waited to hear the breathing again. I held my own breath.
The doorbel rang, its clang causing my heart to seize. I gasped, surprised and thoroughly spooked.
It rang again.
And again.
Then stopped.
My alarm clock on my bedside table said it was 11:42 at night. Who on earth was ringing our doorbel at this hour?
Was it Ash?
Rebecca?
Someone… else?
I felt a tightness in my chest at that last thought and careful y eased myself out of the bed and over to the window. I peered though it onto the driveway below. The motion detector lights weren’t on and I couldn’t see a car or anyone out there. I listened, hearing the front door open and my mother saying “hel o?” into a darkness that didn’t answer back.
There was a single knock at my own door. I cried out, my heart hammering wildly, and spun around to see a shadow sliding underneath the door and into my room.
“Ada?”
Another knock. My door shook from its singular impact.
“Mom?” Now my voice was shaking.
Another knock, louder this time, as if to shut me up.
“Um, come in?”
I walked over to it, taking silent, slow steps, listening for whoever was on the other side. Whoever it was had knocked three times.
I heard that breathing again.
I paused in mid-stride, then took one more step until I was up against the door. I reached for the handle in slow motion, hesitating before placing my hand on it, afraid of what I might find on the other side. I was always afraid of what I might find on the other side. I knew better now than to chalk up anything strange as pure paranoia.
If I thought there was a monster in my closet, there probably was a monster in my closet.
My eyes flitted to the shadow on the floor. As if to prove my point, the shadow slowly eased back under the doorframe until it was gone.
It was time to find out what was going on.
I grabbed the handle and flung the door open… Ada was at the very end of the hal way near my parents’ bedroom, the red hot water bottle jostling in her hands.
“I found it!” she yel ed at me. “I got the tap water running until it was pretty hot. What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Were you just in my room?”
“No, I’ve been looking for this in mom’s closet. Why?”
She came toward me and placed the bottle in my hand. It was hot and soothing and just holding it, and having Ada and her slender company, made my heart beat slower to a comfortable level.
“I thought I heard someone knocking on my door.”
She scrunched up her forehead, the day’s waning makeup crusting a little at the corners.
“I know I heard the doorbel ring three times.” She turned to the stairs and shouted down them, “Mom! Who was at the door?”
“I don’t know, sweetie,” came the response from the kitchen. She sounded a little put out. “Kids playing nicky nicky nine doors, maybe.”
I exchanged a look with Ada. At eleven o’ clock at night?
In this neighborhood? both our eyes seemed to be saying.
My mom appeared and came up the stairs with a tray containing a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup (no chicken chunks), a glass of orange juice and a bottle of Nyquil.
I eyed the NyQuil. “You trying to drug me, mom?”
“It’s to help you sleep. Get back in bed, Perry,” she said, and shooed me into my room. I did as she said and placed the hot water bottle on my pelvis. The cramps had already died down a bit thanks to the pain meds. I swal owed the sticky plastic cup ful of NyQuil, hoping the stuff would make me pass out. My mind was racing and it needed to be put to rest. I was hearing things and seeing things, most likely brought on by my delirious pain of earlier. Most likely.